(Like most UK car insurance companies, we set our policies to automatically renew if we don’t hear from the customer, so they’re not accidentally breaking the law if they don’t receive the renewal or something goes wrong.)

Customer: “Why did my policy automatically renew? You never told me it would do this. When I saw the price on your letter I went somewhere else.”

Me: “We did include that information on the letter, ma’am.”

Customer: “It doesn’t say it anywhere on the letter. I read through it carefully.”

Me: *reading from the letter* “Paragraph one, line three; it’s in bold.”

(When I’m in eighth grade, my school gets a new teacher, an inexperienced 22-year-old fresh out of college. Since this is a small school, students are grouped by homeroom and he has to teach several different classes, mostly for his homeroom but for other homerooms, as well. One day, he takes us outside for the gym period and gives us free-reign as long as we don’t stray too far. We’re all having fun in our various activities and don’t notice the time passing. Suddenly, the science teacher, who is in charge of one of the seventh-grade classes, storms out of the building and comes up to our teacher.)

Science Teacher: “What are you doing out here?!”

Homeroom Teacher: “Gym class? Why?”

Science Teacher: *yelling* “You’re is supposed to be in the gym! The assembly starts in ten minutes!”

(Most of us heard and came running so we wouldn’t be late. I don’t think we even had time to change out of our gym clothes. The worst part? All of the students from the nearby elementary feeder school had already been bused over and seated, so our entire class plus our teacher had to climb over a bunch of younger kids to get to our assigned spot at the top of the bleachers!)

We have a small tablet on a stand that visitors use to sign in and out at our facility. This system is currently down, so I have people signing in and out on paper in a binder. I have a bright yellow post-it note in the middle of the tablet, saying, “Out of Order. Please use the book to your right.” Simple, right?

Every fifth visitor of the day begins to sign in on the tablet, completely ignoring the note, and acts completely dumbfounded when I point it out.

So, just before I leave for the day, I make a bigger sign that covers the whole screen of the tablet and tape it over the screen.

What do I see when I’m walking out the door? Someone tearing off the paper and attempting to sign in while my coworker looks at me and I look at him and we both do a simultaneous inner facepalm.

I just don’t know where some people misplace their brains.

(I work in a grocery store. We have a selection of greeting cards, but nothing fancy. A customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Do you have giant thank-you cards?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t carry oversized cards here.”

Customer: “Where can I find one?”

Me: “You could check [Big Box Chain down the street]. I think that would be your best bet.”

Customer: “[Big Box Chain] has them?”

Me: “I don’t know for sure, but that would be my guess. Either that or a Hallmark store.”

Customer: “Hallmark? Where’s that?”

(I’m fairly new to the area, so I don’t know off the top of my head whether there’s a place nearby. I offer to Google it for the customer.)

Customer: “Yes! Do that! Google it! Technology is so amazing these days!”

(I pull out my phone and do so. It looks like there is no such store nearby, and I tell him so.)

Customer: “Google ‘Hallmark’ and ‘giant cards’!”

Me: “Unfortunately, that wouldn’t help you much, sir. That would just show me a lot of giant cards that you could buy online, but wouldn’t say anything about whether there’s somewhere nearby you can get them.

Customer: “Can’t you Google it? Google ‘thank-you cards’!”

Me: “I really think [Big Box Chain] is your most likely option.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: *just wanting to get back to work at this point* “Tell you what. Let me check for you.”

(I look up product listings with my phone, getting a little irritated at this point because it’s clear this customer isn’t going to buy anything here, and everything I’m doing, he could do himself. It looks like the store probably does carry oversized cards, but it’s not clear what kind, and the customer is barking out various things he wants me to Google the entire time.)

Me: “How about I just call [Big Box Chain] and ask whether they have them? They’re right down the street.”

Customer: “What was that Hallmark thing you said?”

(I give up and just start calling the store. Just as the answer recording kicks in–)

Customer: “I don’t want to go to [Big Box Chain]! That store is too big!”

Me: “…” *hangs up*

Customer: “So, where do I go?”

Me: “As I said, you can go to [Big Box Chain]–“

Customer: “I don’t want to go there! You have to walk too much there! What about Hallmark? Didn’t you Google that?”

Me: “As I said, sir, there isn’t a Hallmark store around here. I’m pretty sure [Big Box Chain] does have what you’re looking for, though.”

Customer: “I don’t want to go there if I don’t have to. That store is a mile across!”

Me: “Beyond that, [Big Box Chain #2], or some kind of party store, I really don’t know what to tell you, sir. I’m sorry. I know we don’t have them here.”

Customer: *huffs* “Fine. Another forced march.” 

(And he grumped away without so much as a “thank-you.”)

(I have stopped at a popular fabric store on my way home from work during the holiday season. I’m picking up supplies for my boss and me to put together stockings for our coworkers.)

Me: *muttering to myself* “Red or black? Hmm…”

(A woman approaches me.)

Woman: “Excuse me? Miss? Can you show me where [sewing materials] are?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t work here.”

Woman: “Of course you do; you’re in uniform.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I work in security and this is my site’s uniform. I don’t work for [Fabric Store].”

(I point at the company name on my button-down shirt and motion to my black slacks.)

Me: “They wear green aprons and jeans.”

Woman: “Nonsense. If you’re in work clothes, you work here.”

(This goes back and forth several more times, with me getting more frustrated because I want to leave and she won’t let me.)

Me: “Ma’am, I do not know what to tell you! I don’t work here! Besides, I don’t even shop here that much, so I couldn’t even help you as a fellow customer!”

Woman: “Don’t take that tone with me! I know you work here, so you need to do your job! Stop being lazy and telling me you don’t work here! I see your lanyard around your neck, and a lanyard means you work here!”

(A lightbulb goes off in my head and I realize that I’ve left my lanyard with my badge and licenses on in my haste.)

Me: “Oh, you mean this lanyard?”

(I grab and yank on it, causing the plastic safety breakaway to come apart. I shove the cards on it into my back pocket and leave the ends to hang free.)

Me: “There. Now that I’m not wearing it anymore. I don’t work here.”

Woman: “You are so rude!”

(I reach out and grab what I need, my patience gone.) 

Me: “Call me rude all you want, but maybe if you went and found someone who actually works here instead of wasting both of our time, you could have been shown what you’re looking for. Go find someone in a green apron and ask them.”

(I got past her and went to the registers. On my way out, I saw a manager talking to her and heard him say, “Ma’am, we don’t have blue uniform shirts; we have green aprons. Did you harass a customer?”)